Time Flies
by Rochellu
Summary: Days at Gar's Bodega couldn't be slower. Enid is starting to wonder if one can literally die of boredom, up until a certain alleyway teen swoops in to boost her morale. And Enid had to admit, Red Action did nothing to impress anyone and followed no one. That was pretty cool. Plus, she was pretty hot. Completely irrelevant, but definitely important.


Days at Gar's Bodega couldn't be slower.

Enid's eyes had been boring holes into the clock mounted on the wall for hours now. The audible ticks that indicated each second that passed? _Essentially the soundtrack of her nightmares._

Enid definitely had to admit that she had no idea how she survived the days before KO was hired at the bodega. She had a soft spot for the squirt for sure, and observing his shared antics with Radicles definitely made her days less painful. However, that wasn't to say that her days were completely _devoid_ of pain.

She risked another glance at the clock. A whole two minutes had passed.

Enid groaned, eyes rolling back into her skull. She leaned back on her wooden chair, legs creaking under the sudden shift in weight. Her feet thudded onto the countertop as she slid a pair of sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. A quick snooze would help the time go by. If anyone asked, it was for the sake of her morale. _God_ , not even an hour of her shift had passed and her coworkers were nowhere to be found. There weren't even any customers for her to ignore. If anything, any sign of life would at least prove that time wasn't at a standstill.

 _No one deserved this._

Enid's eyelids grew heavy as she began to slip into unconsciousness. The fluorescent lights and flashy advertisements melted away into darkness, her breathing slowing as the teen began to drift away from anything _remotely_ related to –

The sliding door opened, letting in a gust of air and consequently, indicating the presence of a customer. Refusing to open her eyes, Enid was determined to pretend she didn't even notice. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

"Damn. I didn't actually think you were serious."

" _Shut up_."

It had dawned on Enid that she had jumped to conclusions. She did not have a customer. She had customers. _Plural_. The opposite of singular.

And just as she had been dozing off, too.

There was a long hush that followed the taunts thrown from one party to the other, to the point that the purple-haired cashier began to think that maybe, just _maybe_ , there was still hope. There was still potential for her to squeeze in a snooze until her fifteen minute–

"Hey! Bodega girl!"

… break.

Enid grunted. She was tempted to just ignore it, but it was so surprisingly confrontational for a customer to immediately address her that bluntly that she almost felt compelled to give the owner of the voice her full attention. But not quite.

"Yeah?" Enid deadpanned. The cashier opened her eyes, blinking her drowsiness away from behind her sunglasses. As her vision focused, she could make out a feminine form with hands on her hips, and Enid could feel that eye roll infinitely better than she could see it. That had to be Drupe, hands down.

"Yeah so… is Rad here? I don't see him, like, _anywhere_." A pause. "He does work here, right?"

Enid sighed as she removed her sunglasses and pocketed them. God, his ego was going to go through the roof once he realized Drupe and her friends had specifically come to the bodega just to visit _him_. There was no point in struggling. She could only relent to the inevitable and pick up the phone near the register to page her coworker.

"Radicles, you're needed in the produce section."

Drupe scowled at Enid before snapping her head towards the doorway, where it was evident two other people were snickering. Ah. Red Action and Gregg. That would make sense. The strawberry girl had most likely sent them an equally dirty look, which just caused the individuals in question to laugh harder.

"You called, sarcasm queen?" The alien practically materialized next to her, eyebrows furrowed. However, he put two and two together before she could even say anything, as he noticed Drupe almost immediately.

" _Heeeeeey_ Drupe!" Rad drawled, before he stiffened up and cleared his throat. "Uh. I mean. Wassup. How's, uh, how's it hangin'?" He waggled his eyebrows as he leaned his forearm against the countertop. Enid rolled her eyes, but admittedly, she couldn't help but smile. King of the dweebs.

"Oh, hey Rad!" Drupe seemed to physically brighten once the stock boy had made an appearance. Enid and KO were going to hear about how the alleyway teens had personally left their brick wall to come and visit him personally for the next month for sure.

Enid tuned their conversation out as Rad led her off towards the magazines, opting to survey the store instead. She could hear KO talking animatedly to Gregg somewhere in the distance, if she was to judge the sounds of youthful enthusiasm and intermittent squawking. Her eyes drifted towards the doorway, where Red Action leaned against the wall, flying solo and completely absorbed in her phone. Enid casually looked her up and down. Red looked like she just … _belonged_ there. How the futuristic cyborg could look so in her element at all times, no matter what she was doing or where she was, the cashier would never know.

Enid's eyes trailed from the styled angles of pink hair to the smooth curves of red and blue armor. Few people genuinely interested Enid. It wasn't necessarily a matter of her being selective or superficial (she could honestly care less about someone's reputation or how hard they try to present themselves as something they're not), but she had seen some of the worst that others had to offer, and she had witnessed people try to earn the validation of others by emulating their idea of what they think people want to see. No one could be more genuine and fun loving than KO, and even though her tolerance for Rad's desire for street cred was painfully low, she really did value the soft-hearted and genuinely good guy underneath all of the forced masculinity. They both interested her because they were real, and out of all of the alleyway teens, Red Action certainly was the most authentic and fascinating of them all. She did nothing to impress anyone and she followed no one.

Plus, she was really hot. Completely irrelevant, but definitely important.

Enid felt her face get warm at her own train of thought. The fact she had never really held a conversation with Red Action honestly had nothing to do with her reputation. Oh, she was definitely a stud, and Enid could appreciate that, but it didn't intimidate her at all. No, the problem was that Red Action was a pretty girl and pretty girls were objectively the hardest ones to talk to (coherently).

Too bad while she was internally fighting the Good Fight, Enid entirely missed the fact that the very attractive woman in question had noticed the cashier staring directly at her. She was forcibly launched back into reality when the cyborg approached the counter, only to rest her weight lazily on her elbow (which was similar to what Rad had done) and lean in towards Enid with a broad smirk and half-lidded eyes (which was much more forward than Rad had been).

"There's no need to check me out yet, I haven't finished my shopping."

Damn. The delivery of the line was executed so casually, so flawlessly, that it was difficult for Enid to not vanish into thin air instantaneously and substitute a log in her place.

No. She would stand her ground.

"What dudebro did you borrow _that_ line from? I pegged you as a little more original than that," Enid retorted dryly as she stood up, unable to prevent a small, albeit cocky smile to cross her face. Red Action snickered.

"Well, you got me. Beats just sitting around, though," the teen sighed, "Drupe is going to be a hot minute."

Yeah, okay, the cyborg had a point there. Enid couldn't help but wonder when the teens would make off with her coworker to do whatever it is that clique did all day. She'd probably clock out of the bodega today to see Radicles five hours into lounging against a brick wall. How thrilling.

"So," the purple-haired teen casually transitioned, "Should I expect to retrieve my coworker from you guys sometime before closing today, or am I going to actually have to do my job?" Enid inquired. All in jest, sure, but still a legitimate question. Rad would have to be physically hauled back to Gar's if he ended up leaving with them. Red Action pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, shaking her head.

"Dude, I have nothing to do with that. You may never get him back." The pink-haired teen paused, then groaned. "But if Drupe takes him, that means _I_ might never get my afternoon back. We're doomed."

"Really?" Enid smirked, rolling her eyes. The longer this conversation wore on, the more confidence she had in her ability to quip back and forth with Red Action without showing any weakness or vulnerability. "I thought you were from the future. You're really telling me that you don't already know?"

Shit. Was that borderline flirtatious? Was that too careless? She had been trying to be subtle all afternoon, but Enid was probably starting to read into her own words too much. It wouldn't be interpreted that way.

But just when Enid thought she had one upped Red, flirtatious or not, it became apparent that the other girl already had something up her sleeve. She realized this harsh reality the second that the taller girl's look of surprise morphed into something far more sly.

"Yeah, you got that right. I have an idea of the direction my afternoon could head in–" in what seemed to be one fluid movement, Red Action plucked a pen off the countertop and quickly wrote a series of numbers on the back of Enid's hand with a flourish.

"And that's going on a date with a cute girl once her shift is over," Red Action smirked and left her with a wink before she sauntered back over towards the sliding doors where Gregg and Drupe waited for her return. Rad levitated over to the counter where Enid stood speechless and red in the face, watching the three alleyway teens walk out of the convenience store in what seemed to be perfect sync.

"Yeah so, I _almost_ got her number this time. Drupe, uh, she has it pret- _tyyy_ bad," Rad started, chuckling as an act of false humility, "Someone wanting a piece of this though, what else is new, am I right? I got _moves_." He looked to Enid for validation, frowning when he realized she was distracted and hadn't quite caught onto his monologuing. "Hey, what gives?"

Enid didn't say a word, but lifted her hand into Rad's line of vision. The alien squinted at the numbers, trying to put two and two together.

"What is this? It's just a bunch of… okay, so what, you got _someone's_ number. I'm in with the alleyway teens now so we're basically even. …Who gave you this anyway? The only person you haven't actually ignored today was Red Action, but that wouldn't–" Rad fell silent as Enid bust out laughing. The look of realization on his face was singlehandedly the funniest thing Enid had ever witnessed in her entire life, hands down.

"Man, Enid, nowI gotta catch up! And here I thought _I_ was the stud of the bodega," The alien threw up his hands in exasperation, groaning at the sudden twist of fate. "So are you gonna call her or what?"

Enid looked down at her hand at the scrawled digits and couldn't help but remember that she hadn't checked the clock in a while. Despite the numbers tormenting her all morning, the clerk realized that the afternoon had soared past and that it was nearly time for her to clock out.

"…Yeah. I think I will."


End file.
